


Visitation

by ObjectiveMistress



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post 1x13, Waverly POV, missing moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObjectiveMistress/pseuds/ObjectiveMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waverly visits Nicole before the concluding scene of 1x13.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visitation

Waverly fidgeted her hands nervously in her lap, her legs tucked under her seat in the waiting room of the Purgatory Clinic. She hadn't seen the office so busy since the food poisoning incident of 2012, when the supply of hamburgers for the town's Fourth of July ended up being tainted. Champ had wolfed down three of the patties, scoring her a front row seat to hours of puking, misery, and Champ's complaining that his "tummy hurt."

Purgatory was of course too small for its own hospital. The big city had the facilities one needed for a serious injury. Break your arm falling out of a tree on the homestead? The Purgatory Clinic could take x-rays and set it in a cast quick enough for friends to sign it the next day at school. But that was about the worst they could take care of. When Champ's cousin had his finger severed in an accident, all they could do was throw the thing in a cooler and drive fast to the city. For the record, the finger was reattached.

The waiting room was packed with residents suffering residual effects from whatever poison Bobo had spiked the champagne with. While the ever-mysterious Black Badge Division had delivered the antidote, not everyone got better right away. Residual light sensitivity, nausea, and light-headedness seemed to be common themes among those waiting to be seen.

But not for Nicole.

Nicole Haught was lucky to be alive on multiple counts. First was the fact that Willa decided in some moment to aim for the chest instead of the head. Second was that damn bulletproof vest (which Waverly sorely wanted to give a hug and kiss for its bravery in the line of service), which didn't stop her from having her heart stop for the hour-seeming seconds between Nicole hitting the ground and her gasping for breath in Wynonna's lap. Third was the fact that so much commotion was going on to begin with that Wynonna didn't have the bandwidth at the time to give Nicole what would be such a bad shovel talk that the cop would have already been six feet under by the end of it (but in retrospect this was more of her nightmare scenario than a plausible reality).

Waverly didn't know what it was like to be shot. Well, to be _really_ shot. As badly as the graze had hurt, her reaction in the moment was more fear than pain. So, it didn't really count. Then again, Nicole wasn't _really_ shot either.

But still, it had to have hurt.

The way Nicole had lain there after her body had been thrown back against the wall from the impact of the bullet. How she had gasped for breath as Waverly turned her over and cradled her face. Nicole had said she was a bit bruised, but still, it was all a big stare.

"Waverly Earp?"

So here Waverly waited for her name to be called at the front desk. The clinic was so inundated that they hadn't even been able to tell her what room Nicole was in. At the sound of her name, she got quickly to her seat and walked up to the front desk.

"What can I help you with dear?" Even the front desk attendant looked exhausted by the day.

"I'm looking for Nicole Haught."

"The sheriff deputy?"

Waverly nodded.

"She ain't here," the woman moved to another pile of papers. "I woulda recognized her if she were here."

"Then where is she?" Panic rose in Waverly's stomach.

"You tell me when you find out." She called out the next name on her list.

Waverly hadn't known where Nicole was when she set off to find her. To be fair, she probably should have called or texted but to say that she wasn't thinking straight today (no pun intended) would have been the understatement of the century.

Nicole was already number three on her phone's favorites (after Wynonna and Dolls), so placing the call was thankfully quick as she walked outside of the clinic.

" _Hello? Waverly? Is everything alright?"_

Just hearing her voice again made everything feel so real. Waverly had to stop herself from choking up, "It's fine. It's all fine, I promise. Where are you? You're not at the clinic and I'm worried."

" _I just dragged myself home. I figured there would be a lot more people needin' medical help. Didn't need to be a bother when I just need rest."_

"Can I come over?"

" _Of course, baby. Just let yourself in when you get here. I'm settled and, well movin' too much hurts. You remember where my spare key is? In—"_

"—The carport under the red toolbox."

Waverly had figured a spare key existed to Nicole's home when Nedley offered to feed her cat, Calamity Jane (known mostly as "Jane") while she rested in the hospital. Frankly, Waverly considered it no small honor to be privy the trust of her home that Nicole already seemed to put in her.

" _Alrighty then. I guess I have company to look forward to."_ Her voice was teasing.

Waverly moved quickly back to her Jeep. With Nicole expecting her, she didn't want her injured girlfriend to wait an extra second.

"Girlfriend." She said the word quickly to herself as she fastened her seatbelt.

It felt new but comfortable on her tongue. Nicole was her girlfriend. _Nicole was her girlfriend._ Well, at least she could be once they actually sat down and discussed the terms and conditions, so to speak. In the whole flurry of Willa pointing a gun at Nicole and the shock of the nature of Willa's threat, her response of "sorta" surely didn't count. Confessions of love at gunpoint were decidedly un-ideal too. Waverly smacked herself in the forehead at the memory. If it hadn't been a literal life or death situation, it would have been more embarrassing.

But she couldn't lie that she had been mentally referring to Nicole as her "girlfriend" since they had kissed in Nedley's office. "Lover" had too much of a scandalous twinge to it, and Waverly didn't see any scandal about them dating. "Partner" seemed far too serious (but there was a part of her that couldn't help thinking that "serious" might be nice), and "significant other" had a sterile nature to it that Waverly didn't like.

Waverly twisted her key in the ignition and pointed her Jeep down the road. Nicole lived close to the edge of Main Street. It was a townhouse/apartment hybrid of sorts, with a carport out back, perfect for her squad car, and a flight of stairs that lead up to her one bedroom apartment.

All she wanted to do was make sure Nicole was okay. Maybe make her some tea and tuck her in beneath a soft blanket for a relaxing and restful evening. Yet, their relationship label and her confession of love hung over Waverly like cloud. Despite a seeming resolution to their most pressing problems, the destruction of Bobo seemed to leave more loose ends than it tied up. Where did they go from here? And Dolls? Were they going to get him back? Did that put the invitation to the Black Badge Division Wynonna said that Nicole had received on hold?

Pulling her Jeep in to double-park behind Nicole's cruiser, Waverly practically threw herself out of the driver's seat and onto the hard, frozen ground. She jogged into the carport and lifted the red toolbox to reveal Nicole's spare key. Silently thankful that she had the chance to change into a black pair of leggings and loose sweatshirt that bore a faded "Shorty's" logo (because wearing that dress around had gotten old fast once things went south.) She didn't want Nicole to wait a minute longer than she had to. Waverly fumbled with the single key. Finally meeting key with lock, Waverly opened the door slowly.

"Nicole, it's me," she announced, not wanting to startle her.

"In here," Nicole called from down the hall.

Despite only being partially unpacked, Nicole's apartment already emanated a sense of home to Waverly. The stairwell up to the main level of the abode was dark. She hurried up the stairs, emerging at the top into the cozy living room.

"You are a vision," Nicole beamed from her prone position on the couch.

Waverly stopped in her tracks. Nicole had a blanket draped messily over her lower body, and a bag of frozen peas on her chest. Her hair was down but messy, and tiredness crept into everything about her appearance and posture. Yet, not a single part of her thought Nicole was anything less than the beauty Waverly knew her to be.

"Don't distract me," Waverly crossed her arms. "Why didn't you go to the hospital? Or even the clinic?" Her anger was half-hearted and rooted in concern.

"Didn't want to be a bother," Nicole winced, resettling the bag of frozen peas on her upper chest. "Definitely thought all the poisoned partiers needed the attention more than I did. It's just a bruise, Wave, I promise."

Waverly's posture slumped, tension and anger ebbing immediately. She dropped to the floor next to the couch. As much as she wanted more contact, she was afraid. How injured was Nicole really?

"I got up after you and Wynonna left, and helped Nedley since he was in a worse state," Nicole reached out, brushing a lock of hair out of Waverly's face. "Wish I coulda gone after you to give you a bit of backup."

If Waverly was honest with herself, she didn't quite want to think about what had happened. The loss of Dolls to whatever mysterious government installation or agency had him made her stomach churn. And although Willa certainly was a "dickhead," like Nicole had described her, losing her still gave her pangs of pain in her chest. She was here to forget, for now. She'd tell Nicole all that had happened, especially now that she was in on the crazy demonville that Purgatory really was.

"C-Can…I see it?" Waverly asked tentatively.

"My bruise?"

Waverly nodded.

"It ain't pretty," Nicole slowly pulled off the bag of frozen peas and dropped it off the side of the couch. "It'll probably look worse tomorrow too." She removed the thin towel that acted as a barrier between the frigid cold and her skin.

Nicole wore a maroon colored spaghetti-strapped top. In usual circumstances, Waverly would have enjoyed the view of Nicole's smooth, soft skin that she had found more joy in running her fingers and lips over than she had previously thought was possible with another human. But now, a blooming purple and blue (and a bit of green when she looked closely) bruise marred the beautiful expanse of flesh. Waverly couldn't contain a wince at first sight of it. But it was the better outcome; she could only imagine the result had the bullet not met its defensive match in Nicole's bulletproof vest.

"Does it hurt?" Waverly moved to sit on the edge of the couch, and reached for Nicole's hand.

"Yeah," Nicole swallowed. "But I guess that makes bein' shot another thing we have in common," she winked.

"That's not exactly what I thought we'd share," Waverly chuckled.

"Well it's not the only thing." Nicole took a deep breath, wincing slightly. "You said that you love me."

Waverly couldn't meet her eyes. It wasn't that it was untrue. It was just so soon and she had never felt so strongly about someone so quickly and yes Nicole still scared her a bit and gosh, would she scare her off. Slowly, she drew her gaze up to Nicole's.

"I meant it," Waverly rubbed her shoulder with her free hand. "I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't. And I know its so soon and that—"

Nicole smiled, "I love you too."

"Y-You…you do?"

"Thankful you do. Not quite sure how I got so lucky," Nicole's smile widened. "Especially to be your kinda girlfriend."

"Would you like to be my girlfriend _girlfriend_?" Waverly bit the bullet.

"It's a title I will gladly take."

Waverly couldn't think of a response other than to lean in and kiss her. Nicole threaded her fingers in her hair, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Thankfulness. Desperation. Fear of loss. Love and care. Waverly had never poured so much emotion into one kiss. Their lips slipped against one another's, and she couldn't help but feel herself get lost in the sensation of it all. Nicole was intoxicating. She gave her this heady feeling that felt like a beautiful spiral of losing control. Books had said that love could be like this, but Waverly had thought it fiction; if it hadn't been that way with Champ then it couldn't get better, at least not for small town her. But now… _wow_.

Nicole pulled her forward, flinging the throw blanket over the back of the couch. Waverly moved to straddle her girlfriend's lap and instinctively pressed herself down. Her lips moved to Nicole's jaw, nipping and kissing downwards to her neck. Nicole moaned, arching her back further into her touch.

They hadn't gone… _all the way_ yet. Waverly knew that sex with Nicole would be much more than just routine for her, and while the prospect of something decidedly less formulaic (and relatively quick-ending) was exciting, it was also terrifying. Her admission of not knowing what she was doing when she kissed Nicole that first time in Nedley's office was still true. Kissing Nicole had quickly become familiar. She knew that Nicole loved everything from soft, tender kisses, to ones bordering on hard and desperate. She knew that kissing Nicole along her jawline, trailing until she could take her earlobe gently between her teeth (but only when she wasn't wearing earrings because that was a mistake) drove her crazy. Shirts off, bras still on had become familiar quickly also as Waverly loved to explore Nicole's taut stomach and strong shoulders.

Slow was good. Slow was fine. Except for when it wasn't.

Waverly leaned in closer, desperate to press her chest against Nicole's.

Now was a "wasn't" sort of time.

Nicole gasped in pain.

"Oh God oh God," Waverly drew back quickly as if burned. "I'm so sorry I just got so caught up I—"

"It's okay, really," Nicole mustered a smile. "Maybe tonight is more of a cuddle and movie night." She yawned. "Or maybe an early to bed sort of night."

"Can I stay?" Waverly asked.

She wanted to make sure Nicole was okay. She needed to see it herself. To sleep close enough to feel the heat radiating from her still living body.

"You don't even have to ask, baby," Nicole sat up, inching closer to her. "On second thought…maybe if you're careful where you put your hands I can get you to stop talkin' tonight."

"Oh really?" Waverly smirked. "Well I think you should stop talking too."

"I guess you'll have to make me then."

Waverly wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring. But hopefully, it would have a heavy dosage of Nicole. After all, things certainly couldn't get worse. Right?


End file.
